


Noisy Neighbours

by bluevalentine69



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Beads, Anal Sex, Boys Will Be Boys, Comedy, Crack, Ficlet, Fluff and Smut, Funny, Humor, M/M, One Shot, Rimming, Semi-Public Sex, Students, Triple Drabble, University
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-08
Updated: 2020-02-08
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:47:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22607992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluevalentine69/pseuds/bluevalentine69
Summary: “Merlin,” someone grunts nearby, “stop fucking wriggling, I keep slipping out.”“I can’t help it,” a grumpy voice retorts. “Whose brilliant idea was it to stick a vibrating bead in my arse, before shagging me?”__OR, the one where Merlin and Arthur live together in shared student accommodation and have a lot of fun times. Their housemates sometimes have ... less fun times.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 40
Kudos: 578
Collections: My Stash of Humor and Fluff





	Noisy Neighbours

Freya stops dead in the middle of the kitchen.

“Merlin,” someone grunts nearby, “stop fucking wriggling, I keep slipping out.”

“I can’t help it,” a grumpy voice retorts. “Whose brilliant idea was it to stick a vibrating bead in my arse, _before_ shagging me?”

“It was yours, idiot,” the first voice says flatly, tapering out into a groan.

“I said use a vibrating _cock-ring_ ,” Merlin grits out, and Freya blushes as there’s a mutual curse and the very definite sounds of rhythmic thumping. “ _And_ you used way too much lube. It’s an arsehole, not a petrol tank.”

“Thank you for explaining the difference,” the deeper voice says sarkily, and there’s an affronted muffle as though Merlin’s suddenly had something shoved in his mouth to stop him from retorting.

“Oh my god,” Freya mutters, hurrying out of the door and into the hall. She’s nearly made it to the front door when one of her new housemates, Gwen, stops her.

“Settling in?” she asks sweetly. “I thought we’d give you time to unpack and then take you to the pub for a welcome to the house drink?” Freya glances towards the kitchen. She’d gone in to make herself tea, exactly twenty minutes into living in her new home, hoping to meet some of her fellow student residents.

“Erm,” she frowns, looking back towards the kitchen. “Maybe now would be a good time for the pub,” she whispers.

“Why are you whispering?” Gwen whispers curiously. There’s a sudden bang, a stifled shout, and a clatter as numerous objects apparently fall to the floor.

“You broke the fucking shelf!” the scandalised voice (she now recognises as Merlin’s) says accusingly.

“You told me to go harder!” the other voice responds, just as accusingly. Gwen raises an eyebrow.

“Ah,” she says with understanding. Freya feels her cheeks pinkening.

“We should go,” she mumbles. “Before they know we’ve heard them.” Gwen looks at the wall evasively.

“I don’t think that’s going to be a problem,” she says, almost apologetically. She’s about to ask why, when the kitchen door opens and a surprised male voice greets her.

“Hi Gwen!” he says cheerfully. “Friend of yours visiting?” Gwen shakes her head.

“This is our new housemate,” she explains. “She’s moving in today, it was on the communal notice board, remember?” An incredibly handsome blond boy saunters into Freya’s line of vision, completely nude save for a pair of marmalade-covered boxers, stomach smeared with fluids Freya can’t bring herself to name. The boy holds out a hand.

“Nice to meet you,” he says. “I’m Arthur. Room 7.”

“Freya, room 3,” Freya smiles back. A second boy appears behind him, dark haired and pale skinned and coltish and beautiful in a way that makes Freya’s stomach hurt. He’s completely covered with dark purple love bites, from his neck to his thighs. Merlin, she presumes. He waves, apparently unconcerned by the flour smearing his cheek and sticking to his damp belly. He’s put a sock over his cock for modesty.

“Merls,” he grins. “Also room 7.”

“I didn’t realise this block contained couple’s accommodation?” she says, by way of conversation. Merlin shakes his head.

“It doesn’t, not really. We were in halls last year and spent the whole time in my room, so we decided this year we’d just save money and share. Arthur actually owns room 5, but he sub-lets it behind the university’s back to a local plumber called Will. He’s very nice. Sorts out the boiler for us for free.”

“Right,” Freya nods, slightly dazed.

“We need a shower,” Merlin says, wrinkling his nose at Arthur. “I came down to get Doritos and Arthur jumped me,” he explains. Arthur grins at him lasciviously and Freya blushes again.

“Don’t go into the pantry for a while,” Arthur suggests lightly as he turns to jog upstairs. “Smashed jars of jams and baking stuff all over the floor. Me and Merls will clean it up later.” Merlin glances up at Arthur’s retreating back and bites his bottom lip, in a subconscious gesture of want. Freya is a psychology student.

“Did we agree earlier we’d go to the pub this evening?” Merlin asks Gwen. “Shall we meet you there?” Gwen rolls her eyes.

“Well Freya _definitely_ needs a drink now, thanks to you two.” Merlin blows her a kiss and follows Arthur upstairs. Freya looks at Gwen, lost for words.

“I should probably explain some stuff,” Gwen says reluctantly.

*

“It’s not _all_ the time,” Lance offers diplomatically, putting down his beer. “I mean, they do go to lectures, and sleep, and hang out.” Leon snorts. “Well, they do!” Lance says defensively.

“Dude, they literally never stop shagging,” Percy grins in amusement, nodding towards the bar. Merlin is leaning back against Arthur, kissing his neck as Arthur slowly rubs his thumbs over his nipples, talking to the barman whilst they wait for their drinks.

“They’re just in love,” Gwen defends them, looking at Freya worriedly. “They’re really nice, honestly.” Freya’s really not one to judge. But the totally shameless public displays of affection seem a _little_ inappropriate, even for experimental, carefree university students.

“And you were all happy to move in with them, even with all the - - ?” Freya does an odd hand movement to suggest sex.

“No-one quite realised how bad they are, actually,” Leon explains with a guilty glance in Arthur’s direction. “Me and Arthur and Lance and Percy have been friends since school, we always planned to move in together in our second year. But we were all in different halls in our first year, so we didn’t see what Merlin and Arthur were like living together.”

“Merlin saw Arthur and his sweat and his rippling muscles in a start of term boat race,” Percy explains.

“And Arthur saw Merlin seductively licking ice-cream from the banks,” Lance adds.

“And then they mutually saw each _other_ in the Purple Turtle later, and it was love at first sight,” Gwen finishes. “It was like fate. Same college, same dorms.”

“ _We_ first ‘met’ Merlin sucking Arthur’s cock, in the back pew of the Oxford Union,” Leon smirks. “Should have known then, I guess.”

“I study English with Merls,” Gwen adds, and it was him who introduced me to Lance, through Arthur.”

“So you’re together too?” Freya asks faintly, starting to feel like she’s fallen into a Mills and Boon novel.

“Yes,” Gwen says, “but we’re not like that.” She glances at Lance. “I mean. We have sex. Obviously.”

“Quietly,” Lance adds reassuringly.

“I’m single, don’t worry,” Percy says. “No chance of weird noises coming from my end of the house.”

“Or mine,” Leon adds. “I date Arthur’s sister, Morgana. She’s at UCL. We stay at my parent’s flat in London at the weekends.”

“Good to know,” Freya smiles wanly. As a relatively inexperienced Catholic schoolgirl, all this very aggressive sexuality is quite a shock to the system.

“Earplugs and rock music,” Leon advises, taking a swig of his pint.

“The damage list is on the notice board in the kitchen,” Percy adds. “Just add anything of yours that they break, and they’ll replace it.”

“Not that they break stuff _that_ often _,_ ” Gwen says hurriedly, seeing the alarm on Freya’s face.

“They broke the kitchen table,” Percy remembers, taking a handful of peanuts. “Merlin had been on it, being shagged on his hands and knees, and it collapsed underneath him. Had to go into hospital with suspected concussion, poor thing. Told the paramedic he’d been attempting parkour.”

“It was old and cheap,” Gwen reasons.

“They smashed a lamp in the upstairs hallway,” Leon points out. “Came back from a nightclub drunk and Merls was a bit handsy, pushed Arthur into a wall trying to unzip his jeans, and the lamp went flying.”

“He can’t help having very long limbs,” Gwen objects loyally.

“There was so much lube on the bathroom floor that Percy slipped and sprained his ankle,” Lance reminds her, arching an eyebrow lightly.

“He’s big, he has bad balance!” Gwen snaps.

“Come on Gwen, admit it. They’re bloody awful. Even you were complaining last week.”

“What happened last week?” Freya dreads to ask, utterly horrified.

“Gwen had a study group coming over to prepare for an exam, and Arthur and Merlin had forgotten that anyone was going to be home. They were busy putting on something of a sex show on the terrace. I think dildos and handcuffs and chocolate fondue were mentioned?” 

“Sefa did faint,” Gwen admits. She looks up as Arthur plonks himself down on an empty stool, pulling up another for Merlin beside him.

“Who fainted?” he asks, opening his mouth as Merlin feeds him a chip.

“Oh, you know, just everyone who enters the dungeon of lust we like to call home,” Leon smirks. Arthur rolls his eyes.

“Pot, kettle. I saw you fingering my sister on her eighteenth birthday, remember?” He grimaces. 

“You came into her room without knocking!” Leon protests.

“Well, I didn’t know you’d be fingering her, did I?” Arthur asks imperiously. Gwen holds up her hands in a gesture of peace.

“You both know you can be a bit loud sometimes, that’s all,” she says in an admirably non-confrontational way. Arthur nods contritely.

“My Merls is a shrieker,” he admits affectionately. Merlin punches his shoulder crossly. “We’ve been experimenting with a ball gag, haven’t we baby, but it chokes him when he comes.” He frowns and strokes Merlin’s hair. Merlin glares at his petting.

“I’m not a cat, ass-jack,” he mutters, resting his head on Arthur’s shoulder regardless, sighing as Arthur starts to rub circles in the soft skin behind his ears.

“I’ve got lots left to unpack,” Freya says suddenly, standing up. “It’s been great to meet you all.” She runs out of the pub before any of them can say another word.

“Another transfer request?” Leon asks the table, fiddling with a beer mat.

“Ten quid she’ll last the week at least,” Lance says. Percy shakes his head at him.

“It’s as though you _enjoy_ giving away your money,” he says, bemused. Gwen throws her coaster at Arthur’s head, and gets Merlin’s furious puppy eyes in response.

“We’ve talked about this so many times!” she says angrily. “Save it until they’ve moved in and like us all too much to leave! We can’t afford for that room to be empty, or we’ll have to pay rent on that too!” Merlin sits up.

“Sorry,” he says seriously. “We don’t mean to be annoying. It’s just - have you _seen_ Arthur?” Arthur snorts, and even Gwen can’t help but laugh at Merlin. “We’ll pay the room charge if Freya moves out,” he promises, “won’t we Arthur?” Arthur links his fingers with Merlin’s and nods.

*

Later that night, Gwen wakes up to a familiar soundtrack: thudding, groaning, laughing. It sounds like their laptop is on; dodgy music and a car engine revving. They must be having a porn challenge night. Merlin told her once that they take it in turns to pick a porn movie, and then try to reenact the sex scenes live. It had once resulted in Arthur fucking Merlin standing up, with Merlin lying on the bed, legs in the air, as Arthur tried to bend his body double to give Merlin a blowjob at the same time. Merlin had immediately come in Arthur’s eye, and Arthur had had to wear an eye patch for a week.

She wakes up early, heading to the kitchen to make coffee, and walks in on Arthur gently humping Merlin against the counter as he eats Cheerios, head buried in his neck as he softly thrusts in and out of him.

“I love you,” she hears him whisper, wrapping his arms around Merlin’s waist. Merlin puts down his cereal and twists around with an endearing, face-splitting grin.

“I love you more,” he smiles sappily. She grins at their secret tenderness and backs out quietly, giving them some privacy.

Next time she wakes up, there’s an email from the accommodation officer, notifying the house of Freya’s departure.

*

Two weeks later, Lance is showing a new potential resident their spare room. The guy seems nice, friendly, like he’ll fit in with their group. He’s called Gwaine; relaxed, Irish, floppy-haired, and very easy-going. He’s just about to show him the sitting room, when his mobile rings.

“It’s my mum,” Lance says apologetically. “Feel free to look around, I’ll join you in a sec.” He heads off towards his own room and leaves Gwaine to explore without him. When he returns, he finds Gwaine standing in the doorway where he left him, stroking his cock over his jeans.

“Straight up the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” Gwaine mutters to him in an undertone, and Lance peers through the door, Merlin is lying on his tummy in front of the TV, head in his arms, apparently sleeping, whilst Arthur’s face is buried in his arse, occasionally emerging shiny and then returning to lick and nibble at his hole, tongue lapping soothingly at the inflamed, puffy entrance.

“ - ‘m gonna come again,” Merlin mumbles into his elbow, and shudders his release into the carpet, sighing as Arthur rubs broad, reassuring hands over his lower back.

“Sweet Mary Mother and Holy Jaysus,” Gwaine whistles, closing his eyes. “Bin twice already since you’ve been on the phone to your mam. What’s his arse made of, liquorice?” Lance closes the door quietly.

“Do you have a boyfriend?” he asks hopefully. Another couple would be their best bet, under the circumstances. Couples are more forgiving of other horny couples.

“Straight,” Gwaine shrugs. Lance looks at him in surprise.

“They fuck 24 hours a day,” he says candidly, deciding to weed out the snowflakes before the welcome beer this time.

“Impressive,” Gwaine notes.

“Every single one of us hears or sees them on an almost daily basis,” Lance adds. “Five new housemates have come and gone already this term. We only put up with them because we’ve been friends for years and we love them, more fool us.”

“Noted, y’have resident sex addicts. It’s niche, I like it.”

“Sometimes they break shit.”

“S’long as it’s not their dicks or mine, s’fine by me.” Lance looks at him appraisingly.

“When can you move in?” he asks.

*

The End


End file.
